THE DEIFIED CABBAGE

The faux Greek Columns looked grey and forbidding in the chill morning light. Alex pulled his coat around himself. It was an old coat, given to him by a policeman at the police station. It had been cold in that cell, damn cold. Even a threadbare coat with three buttons missing had seemed a blessing at the time. Now he was approaching the headquarters of the StatSis, and even the cold and stink of urine in the police cell didn't seem quite so terrifying now.

The two bull necked StatSis officials gave him a push in the back. Alex stumbled and nearly fell but just managed to retain his balance. He kept his eyes staring straight ahead. He knew from past experience that any show of defiance would be met with even more violence. Still, he did fantasize that he'd just smashed his fist right in the kisser of the guy on his left, the bigger of the two guards, and the most vicious. Alex had to work hard to cover up the vicarious enjoyment those thoughts gave him.

The front doors to the StatSis offices were huge wooden affairs which groaned like hell when bigger bull neck eased them open. The corridor that was revealed was dark and forbidding, with a pungent smell of cabbage and onions wafting up Alex's nostrils.

"Even these bastards 'ave got to eat", Alex ruminated to himself, although the stink didn't fill his taste buds with stimulation.

"In 'ere, y'fuckin' wanker", the bigger bull neck bawled. Alex made the mistake of half turning towards him. He saw the punch coming but wasn't quick enough. The big fat fist smashed into his nose, his cartilages seemed to puncture like an old tyre. He felt the blood spurt. The anger welled up within him. He hadn't gone down but was saved by a sort of ancient cabinet which he held onto for dear life. His anger blinded him to consequences, his reaction was instinctive, he swung a huge punch at bigger bull neck. He felt his fist land on the man's cheek, blood gushed from a wound on the cheek bone, but the man hardly moved. 'Tough bastard eh, try this', Alex was so full of anger he aimed a vicious kick at bigger bull neck's groin, the scream that emanated from the man mountain was music to Alex's ears. Then his head exploded into multi coloured lights. He'd forgotten the other guy, who'd scampered off at the first hint of trouble but who'd now returned with reinforcements. Alex screamed as his back seemed to explode with pain, he tried to stand but blows rained in on him. Then he smelt the cabbage, the same smell that had greeted him as he entered this house of cruelty.

"Stop .. you .. an' you, stand back ..", the voice was strong and firm yet lacked the brutality of the other guards. Now he felt strong arms lifting him to his feet, then half walking half carrying him.

"You stupid bastards, you've beaten him to unconsciousness, our job is to obtain information, to change people to our world view. You'd better pray this man doesn't get ill". Alex was hauled off to a sort of interview room.

"Alex Grant, you have been arraigned before the citizen's committee for defaming the Party and the people", the bark ripped into Alex' consciousness. There was one small light that hardly illuminated the room. Alex could see the outline of two men seated with another standing behind them.

"How do you plead?", the staccato barked again, the words seemingly like separate gunshots.

"Plead ... plead?", Alex asked perplexed.

"You have questioned our system, that brings all human rights and all material goods to our people", that staccato again, "you only question because you're scum, a low specimen of human kind who doesn't understand our advanced concepts".

'Careful here Alex', he told himself, 'box clever' as his head spun with various replies.

"I question because that's where the focus of our developing system must be", Alex replied calmly, but his guts were twisting like universal twine.

The two thugs sat silent for a moment, apparently unable or unwilling to speak, then bigger bull neck attacked again, "You are a revisionist, d'you 'ear, y'want to reverse our glorious system, built on the universality of mankind. You're a criminal, a recidivist, a traitor".

The blood seemed to freeze in Alex' veins. He knew the consequences the word traitor carried. On the other hand there was amusement, these two were repeating slogans from indoctrination help scripts.

"Y'question because you're a bastard, against the system, our system ….".

"No, not true. I want an equitable system. I mean, circumstances might change. There might be some misreading of the facts. What if the Leader has some point he wants to raise with the Deputy Leader, would that be bad, can you guarantee that the Leader raising a question is impossible ….".

The two bull necked individuals sat silent, Alex saw them look at each other, then at him.

"You reactionary bastard, y'shouldn't be allowed …..".

"Enough", this was the man in the shadows. The two bull necks stopped. "Bring him along", the man in the shadows said quietly.

Alex's blood ran cold. He'd heard of people being marched out of this place, only to be found a day or two later with their brains blown out. Although it was cold in those cells Alex felt a hot sweat coming on. The bull necks dragged him from his chair. He didn't resist.

As he was dragged through the corridors he smelt a whiff of boiled cabbage again. There arrived a disgusting taste in his mouth. Coupled with the bricks which seemed to be in his stomach he felt delirious. He staggered against a wall and began to retch. The bull necks showed no pity, but attempted to kick his legs from under him.

"Enough", the man in the shadows echoed again, the bull necks immediately stopped. The smell of cabbage seemed to stop abruptly.

There was a pin prick of light in front of Alex. His legs ached like hell, he was retching even as he was being dragged along. The pin prick of light became bigger, and developed a form. It was a door, and the light streaming in was the light from the streets outside.

"Hell fire, I've been in that shit 'ouse all night".

He was marched on, the terror inside him trickling from his mouth. He'd reached the door now. He almost fell into the door, his mouth gulping in the life giving air. He was waiting, waiting. Nothing happened. Fearful he turned around. The bull necks and the man in the shadows had gone. He was expecting a bullet and instead got freedom. Suddenly Alex awoke. The sweat poured from him, but he was safe, it had all been a dream, or had it? The faint whiff of cooking cabbage filled his nostrils. Had that smell, the smell that induced terror, meant something else altogether, maybe even salvation?

Mr Amal stared at Alex with a deep hostility. "But I gave you the instalment two weeks ago".

"You did, and that was three weeks late. I rang you numerous times before I tracked you down. My time costs money", Alex growled.

"Look, if you give me …..", Mr Amal was pleading.

"I'll give you two days. The bailiffs are waiting, just at the end of this phone", and here Alex brandished his expensive mobile.

"But it'll bankrupt the firm, people will lose jobs ……".

"That's your problem, sort it out", and Alex marched out of the shop, apparently so full of himself his head hardly got through the door. But the brick of shame lay heavily in his guts, almost making him sick.

His next appointment wasn't far, he set off to walk, it would do him good. He passed his almost new Land Rover, giving himself a little smile at his affluence. Course he'd worked for it, or that's what he told himself.

Suddenly he slowed, sniffing the air. It couldn't be, but it was. The smell of cooking cabbage. He looked around. There were no restaurants or cafes within easy reach of where he was. The smell suddenly got stronger, it was a sickly smell, he began to feel nauseous. The fear stopped him in his tracks as he looked around, peering into one street then another to try and locate the mysterious and fearful whiff. But, he suddenly asked himself, hadn't this smell arrived in the past to benefit him rather than harm him? Before he could ruminate the whole street seemed to shudder to the accompaniment of a momentous crashing sound.

Alex instinctively ducked, then spun his head around. Just a few metres away a van had inexplicably left the road, careered over the pavement and smashed itself into the large glass windows of a clothing store. Some of the smaller glass shards had landed just centimetres from his feet. The van itself had left the road at exactly the spot that Alex would have occupied had he continued walking and not stopped to investigate the smell of cabbage. All this happened in a few seconds. It was almost too much to take in. Alex's head spun like a top. His legs seemed like jelly. He grabbed wildly at a rail to stop himself falling. The thoughts crashed through his brain so fast that by the time one was on its way out another was half way in.

'Get a grip', he told himself over and over as he tried to make sense of the messages smashing through his head. And he did get a grip, somehow.

'But for that smell', he thought, and he looked across at the pile of twisted metal that had been a van, 'I'd have been mashed in that lot. It saved me ..'.

Alex had never been a religious man, apart from a few months in a church choir. He'd been brought up in a school of hard knocks backed by the cruel commercialism of the young businessman. But now, now, after these seminal experiences with that cabbage smell. Now his whole body seemed to fill with new feelings. If this something had cared for him, he must do the same, nothing less would do.

Alex charged towards the wreckage of the van. Other people were doing the same, but not with the same vigour. They could see metal, folded like paper. They could see the smoke rising from a wrecked engine. There was danger, injury and maybe death here. But Alex leapt into it like a man possessed. The door of the van was half open, the metal crimped as you would with a pie. There were two men in the van. Both were motionless, both streaming blood. Alex pulled at the door like a madman, it was imperative that he save these two fellow human beings. The door didn't budge. Alex screamed at the bystanders, one or two ran in to help. The door began to shift ever so slightly. Alex pushed like hell, the muscles in his legs and arms standing out like rope.

Suddenly enough space seemed to appear. Alex tried to push himself into the van. It was too tight. He pushed like hell. His shirt ripped, the sharp metal cut into his skin, a rapidly growing stain began to appear on his once spotless shirt. He uttered a tiny cry as the jagged metal acted on his body like a knife, but he pushed on, now able to grab one of the men. The man was completely motionless, a dead weight. Alex struggled to move him. He wondered whether he was struggling with a corpse, but he redoubled his efforts. Suddenly the engine which had been smoking burst into flames. Those around leapt back. Alex redoubled his efforts again. There were cries for Alex to get out. He continued the struggle, eyes bulging out like organ stops. The apparently lifeless body twitched, Alex grabbed the man and yelled for help. A police sergeant emerged from the crowd and moved gingerly towards the blazing van.

"You're the bravest fool I've ever known", the sergeant murmured, joining Alex in his life saving mission. They managed to drag the man on to the pavement and into the hands of waiting paramedics.

"Hell fire mate", a paramedic shouted at Alex, "you need hospital treatment". It was only then that Alex took a look at himself. His once white shirt was now a dilapidated red towel, the blood oozing out from a variety of wounds. His trousers were in shreds. He suddenly felt very very tired. Arms reached out to grab him as he began to fall. These same arms carried him to a waiting ambulance. All of a sudden applause began to break out. Not many at first, but an ever growing crescendo.

Alex gazed around as helping hands helped him towards the ambulance. His head was a kaleidoscope of mixed up thoughts. His memory reached back to his time as a choir boy and the phrase “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” from John 8:32 hit him right in the chops. This phrase had always suggested tranquility, now it seemed more pertinent than ever. The brick that so often lodged in his gut had gone. That brick had kept him awake nights, and given him nightmares about stomach ulcers. The life of a tough heartless business man had never rested well with him. This was his true self, helping, sympathizing. It felt good. No, more than good, with the guilt gone he felt ecstatic. His life was his again, the freedom that truth gave empowered Alex with agency over himself. He was so full of himself he could burst.

A few days later Alex was standing outside Mr Amal's general store. A slight smile ghosted around his lips as he pushed open the large shop door. An assistant greeted him with an uncertain look on his face. Mr Amal had clearly briefed this young man. As if on cue the back office door opened and Mr Amal stepped out. Alex marched right past him into the small office. Mr Amal shut the door, slowly, reluctantly.

Alex fiddled with his mobile phone, then addressed Mr Amal who was standing with a look of trepidation on his face.

"The instalments haven't been paid", Alex barked.

"But I'm near Mr Grant, so near", Mr Amal pleaded.

"Not near enough, what's your time scale now?", Alex used the same aggressive bark.

"Another two weeks please, just another two weeks", Mr Amal's voice was filled with emotion.

"Can't do that", Alex barked. Mr Amal stood, motionless, his last hopes of saving his business seemingly disappearing.

"No, can't do that. What I will do is put you on a new plan which will give you five weeks, and after that ongoing meetings with myself or my accountant to ensure that this business will not only survive, it will grow", this time no aggressive bark, just a caring empathic tone. Mr Amal still stood motionless, but now he stared at Alex in disbelief.

"What?", Mr Amal finally managed.

"Yes, it's a shock, it's a shock to me too. But we're going to work together to make your business a success. Oh and I'm doing the same thing with all my clients in the same predicament as you".

There was shock and disbelief in Mr Amal's face. Over time the disbelief faded, and Mr Amal became one of Alex's confidants, and a trusted intermediary between Alex and other clients needing help. Was that a whiff of cabbage Alex smelled as he walked out of Mr Amal's store?